


Love and memories

by fannishliss



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven talks with River and remembers Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and memories

**love and memories** , Rose/Nine Eleven/River, G,  400 words

A/N:  this is from the future, and it's sad. Sorry!  
  
"Never cared for Dickens," River says, her voice, as always, somehow teasingly sultry.

They're sitting in the library.  Her parents have gone to bed.  The Doctor is alone with her, his new wife as she thinks, and she's looking at him like a banquet table spread for a feast.

"Well, of course, he's very good," the Doctor says.  "Great psychological insight for a man of his day — brilliant with narrative suspense — and really rather handy in a moment of crisis."

River's eyes widen.  "Really?  Do you know him then?"

River never speaks in the past tense. Her innocence bothers him despite himself.   She doesn't yet understand how even a Time Lord's years march unceasingly on, how his adventures criss cross the eras — how he once met Charles Dickens and really liked the man — and now can't ever hope to meet him again.

"I met him once-- good fellow," the Doctor murmurs.  Memories crash through his brain, a massive download from an impassive database: the Gelth, and feeling responsible, and trying to do the right thing; facing down a roomful of zombies, how happy he'd been, clinging to her brave little hand; one more genocide and an innocent girl left dead; and Rose, still trusting him, still there, forgiving, believing in him.  

Rose.  His hearts ache.  Maybe, somewhere, a part of him is still basking in her love?   Or is she dust long since, dead and gone, a universe away?  Surely, he would know?

The words fall smoothly from his lips, as from any schoolboy's:  "...it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all —"  

He breaks off as River's eyes glaze over.   

"Must we talk, Sweetie? Haven't we anything, mmm, better to do?" Her lips are full and parted, her eyes full of stars, her brain still hopelessly tangled around the mere idea of him.  He's sitting right there, right next to her, but her mind reels dizzily through the legend.  

The closer she gets to him, the further she gets from the noble Dr. Song who died for him the day they first met.

Wearily the Doctor lifts his hand to River's temple — another night she'll never forget.

"My wonderful wife," he smiles, and lies, and lies.

 

 


End file.
